


Feywild Fates

by Crescent_Quill (The_Queen_of_France_and_Her_Empire)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Banshees, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Only One Bed, Ranger Marquis de Lafayette, Sorcerer Thomas Jefferson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26186020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Queen_of_France_and_Her_Empire/pseuds/Crescent_Quill
Summary: Thomas' magic had always pulled him, always kept him searching for answers and looking for new ways to develop as a person and advance as a sorcerer. It's this same pull that takes him to the little mountain town of Whinterhavenne after hearing rumours of access to the illusive Feywilds in the area. What he doesn't expect is for it to lead him to a handsome ranger with kind eyes and a soft smile.
Relationships: Thomas Jefferson/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Feywild Fates

**Author's Note:**

> At this rate, Lafferson is becoming an OTP of mine... Guess I'll just have to write more for 'em!

Between two snow-capped peaks was a valley warm with the vivid greens of late spring, and nestled in that valley was the quaint mountain town of Whinterhavenne. The town itself was simple, and those living in it lead equally simple lives.

What had brought Thomas Jefferson up the mountain path was not the town, but the area around it. Rumours travelled far, and word spread of hidden paths and secret gateways to the Feywilds. An average traveller would keep their head down and stick to the main roads or avoid the area entirely, but the high-elf sorcerer was no ordinary traveller.

He lowered his hood as he stepped into the market square, allowing the late afternoon sun to illuminate his thick onyx curls, pointed ears, and the sharp line of his jaw. The market was organized in a pair of rings, creating a path between them that'd allow one to browse the various wares Whinterhavenne had to offer.

Thomas wandered along between the stalls, a small smirk making his lips twitch upwards as one of the stalls caught his attention. It was draped with displays of quilts, cloaks, tapestries, and other kinds of decorated fabrics but the tabaxi with leopard spots and soft grey fur sitting behind the wooden table interested him more. He began to approach, the quiet clicking of his boots against the cobblestone pricking the shopkeeper's ears and garnering her attention.

"Well hello there, stranger! We don't get to see many elven folk all the way out here, what can I do for you today?"

Thomas gave a small smile in response, glancing over the various wares before he spoke, "I couldn't but notice all the colours you use in your wares... Do you make the dyes yourself?"

"That I do!" The tabaxi replied with a proud grin, watching as the high-elf felt the violet fabric of a cloak between his thumb and two fingers, "I gather almost all my materials from the area, including stuff for the dyes."

"Interesting," Thomas began, nodding as he looked over the cloak. He noticed a subtle pattern of roses around the edge outlined with faint golden embroidery. He had to admit, it was a very pretty piece, "They're quite exotic for a mountain town, where do you get them?"

The shopkeeper chuckled in response this time, covering her mouth with a furry paw-like hand as a little twinkle appeared in her lilac eyes, "Something tells me you already know the answer to that question, stranger..."

The high-elf smiled with a breathy laugh in response, his gaze falling to the table covered with folded quilts and rolls of fabric before the tabaxi continued.

"You're cloak, it's an elven weave, yes?" She pointed to the mauve fabric draped over the high-elf's shoulders, earning a nod in response, "I'll trade you it for the one you've been eying but you got to tell me what's gotten you so invested in Whinterhavenne's secrets. If your answer's interesting enough I'll add a pretty little pin to the deal, what do you say?"

Thomas couldn't help but smile as he mulled over the offer, giving the shopkeeper another nod in response. He had learned of tabaxi nature before and how they prefer to trade in stories and fascinating new things rather than coin. This was exactly what he had hoped for.

"You have yourself a deal, ma'am," He confirmed, and the tabaxi leaned forwards with intrigue as her eyes shined with curiosity and Thomas began to tell his tale, "I am a sorcerer and my magic... It guides my travels the same way I guide its power when casting a spell. When I heard the rumours of this place crossing over with the realm of the Fey, I could feel it pulling me towards the mountain paths. I believe it's trying to lead me to something, and so I'm searching for whatever that something is."

Once he had finished he took off his cloak with a flourish, folding up the mauve fabric and placing it on the table. The shopkeeper's eyes were still shining as she handed over the violet cloak and begun to search a small drawer for another item, "I don't get to see many brave enough to face the Feywilds out here either, good luck to you, stranger."

She then held out her closed fist, waiting until Thomas held out his open palm in turn before dropping the item into his hand. It was a golden pin with a pink, glassy orb that had a blooming rose etched in beneath the surface.

"Thank you for everything, ma'am. Oh, and I have one last question."

"Hm?"

"Do you have any good inn recommendations?"

* * *

Thomas fiddled a bit with the rose pin as he secured his new cloak around his shoulders. It suited him quite well, though he was curious as to the kind of gemstone that decorated his new look. He rubbed his thumb in a small circle over the smooth surface of the glassy gem, casting a small identification spell.

"Rose tourmaline... Hm, interesting." He was aware of tourmaline's use in various protection charms, but the specifics of its pink variant were unknown to him.

At the very least, it was pretty.

The high-elf gave a nod to himself as he checked himself in the vanity mirror, quite satisfied with his appearance, before he stepped out of the rented room. He had already paid for a few week's worth of room and board, so he simply gave the innkeeper a curt nod and a subtle smile as he left.

The pull of his magic had only grown stronger since he arrived in Whinterhavenne, becoming something Thomas could no longer ignore. He let it become his compass and followed its directions as he made his way out of the town and found himself facing the southern peak.

"I must be close... I've never felt this way before." The sorcerer murmured as he paused where the cobblestone roads shifted into dirt pathways. He took in a deep breath, steeling his nerves and calming the fluttering butterflies in his chest before he continued onwards, determined to find the source of what had been calling for him as long as he could remember.

He continued forward, following the path up the side of the valley and into the forest that climbed up the side of the mountain. At some point, the dirt path faded into flattened grass of deer-trails, and it was here that Thomas felt the pull shift inside him to guide him in another direction. He hesitated for a moment, trying to peer through the trees to get a good look at the wilderness he was being led into before he took his first step off the beaten path.

Thomas tried not to trip over the tangled roots that hid beneath soft mounds of moss as he pushed his way through the trees and held his cloak close to his body so it wouldn't snag on any of the needle-covered branches of the pines he passed. He lifted the violet fabric higher as he stepped over a mushroom dotted log, but when he boots met the mossy turf on the other side a shift inside the sorcerer made him pause.

The pull of his magic had always been consistent, a steady, pointed force that guided him along the paths he took. Now it was concentrated, buzzing presence within his chest that felt like a compass gone haywire after being held too close to a magnet.

"What on earth...?" He muttered, placing one of his hands to his chest. He looked behind him, hesitating for a moment before he steeled his nerves and turned to the path ahead.

If he was to find his way on his own, then so be it.

Thomas marched forwards into the forest with a determined furrow in his brow. The deeper he went the harder it was to ignore the arcane aura of the place that was thickening with each step, "This must be the Feywilds then..."

The forest wouldn't have seemed any different to the high-elf if it were not for the nearly suffocating presence of pure magic, but this did not surprise him. He knew that the Fair Folk liked their illusions and used them most to protect their realm from the prying eyes of outsiders. He wasn't worried. He was a sorcerer, after all: he'd find a way to break through.

All of a sudden Thomas was met with the sound of high-pitched, mournful wailing. The sound sent a shiver down his spine and forced him to pause his determined march to search for the source of the crying. Through the trees ahead of him, he could make out the figure of a woman in a clearing just ahead of him. The high-elf began to approach, ducking a bit and keeping his steps as quiet as he could to try and get closer.

Standing just within the treeline he could make out more details of this mysterious woman. Her back was turned so the sorcerer wasn't able to make out her face, but he was able to see her stark white hair that reached just below her knees and the faded, sickly sea green hues of her tattered dress.

Thomas stepped into the clearing, concerned but also untrusting of the mysterious woman before him. He was only a few feet away when his heel met a stray twig in the grass. The resounding sharp **_snap!_ **put a sudden stop to the woman's wailing, and she slowly lifted her head from her hands before suddenly whipping around with a howling screech.

This was not a woman, but a Banshee, a foreteller of death. It seemed like Thomas was to be the next victim.

Despite his efforts to brace himself against the assault of the sound, he couldn't stop the feeling of needles digging into his mind or how the screech melded into the high-pitched ringing of his own ears.

Gritting his teeth, forcing himself to pull his hands away from his ears so he could face his enemy. He weaved arcane energy between his fingers and conjured ten small yet radiant stars that moved to hover in rings around his wrists. The sorcerer sent a pair of the stars flying towards the banshee, streaking through the air like comments in the sky and bursting into bright sparks of celestial energy upon collision with the fey creature. She screeched again from the impacts, the sound piercing into the high-elf's mind again.

Thomas was about to send another pair of stars in a volley towards the Banshee, but she got to make her second attack first. She lifted off the ground, arms out by her sides and let out another horrid screech that cast the sorcerer into arcane darkness. He could barely make out the little stars that orbited his wrists and luckily his feet were still on solid ground, but still only able to hear the Banshee's ringing shriek and being shrowd in the darkness he was left entirely defenceless.

The fey creature let out another shriek, this one causing the high-elf's heart to seize with fear as he dropped to his knees. Beginning to hyperventilate he pressed his hands to his ears and dug his nails into his scalp, desperate for relief from the sound piercing through his skull.

Suddenly there was a bright sphere of light cast into the arena, hovering about six feet above Thomas' head. He had to blink against the sudden brightness that washed away the darkness, his eyes adjusting to the new light just in time to see a pair of arrows pierce into the Banshee's throat and chest.

She was still standing and hissing at the new foe, but with her throat pierced she could no longer shriek. While his ears were still ringing the relief he felt as the needles piercing his mind was immense. The sorcerer was able to steel his nerves again and push himself up into a kneeling position and send the rest of the starts shooting at the fey creature.

In barely a moment, the situation turned from hopeless to triumphant as the Banshee fell to the ground and began to dissipate into an ashy mist.

Thomas let himself take a deep breath as he rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the spikes of pain in his head before a hand was placed on his shoulder. He couldn't help but jump despite the gentle touch. Quickly looking up to face the stranger, he focused on their words through the dull ringing the remained in his ears.

"Monsieur... Monsieur sorcier! Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

He managed a nod in response, taking the stranger's outstretched hand, "Yes, I think I am... Thank you, sir."

"That is good to hear," The stranger began with a soft smile that reflected in his kind eyes as he helped Thomas to his feet, "I have been tracking that Banshee for about a week now, hoping to kill it before it caused problems in the town... I am sorry she got to you first."

"No, really, it's alright. I'm just glad you got here." The high-elf replied as he brushed himself off and straightened his cloak before looking to his rescuer. Thomas would've disregarded the copper tone of his skin were it not for its subtle metallic lustre and the thin, tapered points of his ears, "You... You're a wood-elf, aren't you? No wonder you are such an excellent ranger..."

"That I am, yes," The ranger replied with a small laugh and a smile that crinkled around his eyes, "I should be saying the same about you, Monsieur sorcier. Only a high-elf could cast spells as swiftly and elegantly as you."

Thomas couldn't help but smile at the wood-elf's words before he extended a hand as he introduced himself, "My name is Thomas Jefferson, though please, just call me Thomas."

"I have many names, though the townspeople here call me Lafayette. It is very nice to meet you, Thomas." Lafayette replied with a brighter smile, moving to wrap an arm around the high-elf's shoulders and pull him closer.

He would've appreciated the friendly action were it not for the spikes of pain the sudden jostled movement sent shooting through his skull.

"Oh, Dieu... I am sorry, mon ami, I forgot that Banshee's shrieking gives terrible headaches." The ranger murmured, cupping the sorcerer's cheek for a moment with a small frown like he could see the psychic damages down to Thomas' mind, "Why don't you come back to my cottage with me? I'll make us some lavender tea with honey, it should help fix you up!"

"Well, if you insist... By all means, lead the way."

* * *

The path that Lafayette led them through was strange, to say the least. It winded through the trees, shifted between wading through pools of thick ferns and treading over soft carpets of moss, and definitely doubled back on itself more than once. Though Thomas was cautious of the twilight realm he had wandered into, the ranger's cheery confidence was too contagious for him to really be worried.

When they reached a stream bridged with a fallen log, the sorcerer had to pause. The looping rings of mushrooms over the log seemed to line up with a strange veil in the air, and if he squinted Thomas could almost make out faded shapes on the other side.

He opened his mouth to question the strange sight, but Lafayette had already started to answer as he hopped up on the log and extended his hand.

"My home is just on the other side of this stream, but it'd be best if you stayed close and held on to me, Thomas. Borders are tricky in these lands; the wild loves to welcome newcomers but rarely will it let them go without a guide."

"Ah, I see. I am very glad to have someone like you by my side, then." The sorcerer replied, taking hold of the wood-elf's hand and carefully stepping up onto the log next to him.

Lafayette's smile turned warm and bashful from the compliment, a quiet giggle escaping him before he turns and leads them across the mushroom dotted bridge.

Thomas couldn't help but hold his breath as he followed behind the ranger with careful steps, giving his hand a squeeze as he pushed through the illusory veil and the wild whirling of his magic chest finally settled to pulse along with his heartbeat.

He couldn't help but sigh in relief as he stepped off the log and onto the soft grass of a meadow, pausing for a moment to take in the new space.

The stream they had just crossed followed along the treeline for a little while before turning into the meadow and lazily winding through the grass before it reached a small pond. Directly ahead were a few smooth stepping stones pressed into the soft soil that led up to a cottage. It was a small, but quaint and fit right in with the peaceful scenery. The sorcerer couldn't help but think it'd make for a perfect place to study.

"You have a very wonderful little home... Do you live out here by yourself?"

"Yes, I do," Lafayette replied with a small nod, still holding onto Thomas' hand as he led him over the stepping stones and to the front door, "Not many are willing to live so close to the Feywilds as I do, and Elvish lifespans make relationships a little tricky."

The high-elf hummed quietly in response, unsure of what to say as the ranger unlocked the door and welcomed him inside.

The interior was just as quaint as the exterior, with a kitchen filled with fresh herbs, fruits, vegetables, and flowers to the left and a little living room with a small table set up next to the fireplace. Just against the far wall was a ladder that led up to a loft space he could only assume was where the wood-elf slept.

"Make yourself at home! I'll bring you the tea I promised in just a moment." Lafayette explained with a shining little smile before he went to put a kettle on the stove.

Thomas nodded with another hum, glancing around the space as he walks into the living room and quietly kneels down on one of the square cushions set next to the table. He couldn't help but smile at the homey space, already finding wondering if he could stay the night, "It's much more comfortable than the inn, anyhow..."

"Hm? Did you say something?" The wood-elf questioned with an innocent little tilt of his head as he set down a tray with a simple tea set on the table and knelt on the other cushion across from Thomas.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just muttering," The high-elf replied with a small wave of his hand, not wanting to impose as the ranger poured two cups of tea and added a swirl of tea to each.

He took the cup with a thankful nod, breathing in the gentle scent and letting a wider smile spread across his lips as he took a sip. Already the soft sweetness of the tea helped restore him after the beating he took from the Banshee.

"I see you are enjoying yourself," Lafayette commented with another one of his little giggles that graced his expression with a shining kindness, "I am glad. It is my own special blend of tea and it always helps me to unwind after a hard day..."

After another small hum in response from the sorcerer, a comfortable silence fell between the two elves, both simply allowing the tea to soothe their bodies and minds after an adventure. Eventually, Thomas took in a breath and ended the peaceful quiet with his words.

"There are many things I wish to know about you, though I'd hate to impose by bombarding you with too many questions," He began, setting down his teacup for a minute to meet Lafayette's eye, "But I must know, how are you so familiar with the Feywilds? From everything I've read the place is unnavigable by those who aren't within the Seelie or Unseelie courts..."

For a moment the wood-elf's eyes were misted with a sort of sadness that made Thomas wonder if he had done something wrong as Lafayette replied, "It is alright, mon ami, I expected you to at least be a little curious..." He murmured, pausing as he closed his eyes and took another sip of his tea before his smile and shining kindness returned to his face, "The details of my story are complicated and I do not wish to bore you, but when I was very young I managed to wander into the Feywilds on my own while searching for my mother's favourite flowers. I was very lucky to run into a very sweet queen of the Seelie courts who helped me find the flowers and then returned me home... Later on in life, she sheltered me when I had no other place to turn, and I learned how to navigate the wilds under her care."

"I... I see." Thomas said quietly, looking away and down from the ranger's face as his fingers tapped nervously against the side of the teacup, "I'm sorry, I don't really know what else to say."

"It is alright, mon ami, I expected this sort of reaction as well." Lafayette replied with a small shake of his head, offering the high-elf a reassuring smile, "But I think it is fair I get to ask you a question now, yes? So what brings a man like you all the way out here to the little town of Whinterhavenne? You don't seem like one to wander into the Feywilds on accident, were you looking for something? Someone?"

The sorcerer couldn't help but smile at all of the wood-elf's innocent little questions and the way he tilted his head and leaned forwards to rest his elbows on the table and create a perch for his chin with his folded hands.

Just how could he say no to a face like that?

"The answer is... A little bit complicated, I'll admit, so I'll do my best to answer succinctly but-" He took a quick sip of his tea- "As a sorcerer, I've always had an interesting relationship with magic. Magic doesn't like to stay quiet or to be kept hidden away behind theoretical lock and key, and with as strong as mine is I've always felt this sort of pull. I think it's trying to test me, making me travel and see what I learn and how I grow to know if I'm worthy of its power. I think the Feywilds were another test, though..."

As Thomas trailed off his brow furrowed and a concentrated frown spread across his expression. He placed a hand on his chest, carefully pressing the pads of his fingers into the muscle like he was searching for something inside him.

"Is something the matter?" Lafayette asked cautiously, already having sat up and ready to leap into action if the sorcerer needed help, "Are you alright?"

"No, no... I'm fine, it's just," Thomas began, stopping himself with a short sigh and blinking a few times before continuing, "The pull, it's not there. It's different, I don't know-"

He stopped himself again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He lifted a hand and conjured a chromatic orb in his palm. He made sure to carefully watch the energy inside shift from crackling blue sparks to whirling frost-bitten winds and then to fluttering ashes and embers. Anxieties quelled, he closed his fist and allowed the spell to harmlessly dissipate.

"My magic is still there, but it's not pulling it's just... There. It's pulsing a little, but it's following right along with my heart I hardly noticed it." The high-elf trailed off again, lowering his hand and taking hold of his teacup. He felt lucky its contents were so calming.

The wood-elf frowned, tilting his head as he contemplated his next words, "Maybe this is a good thing, maybe it means you are worthy like you said."

"Pardon?"

"You still have your magic, yes?" Lafayette began again, a contagious little sparkled shining in his eyes as he began to smile, "Yet you are no longer being pulled by it so it can test you, so that must mean you are worthy!"

Thomas couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at how joyous the ranger was in explaining his little epiphany. He really was something, "I can't be sure, but I hope that you are right. You're a very kind man, Lafayette... Thank you."

The ranger only smiled more in response with a small shake of his head, lifting a hand as if to say, "There is no need to thank me," before he takes hold of his teacup. The little action made the sorcerer smile as he followed suit, moving to take a sip of his own sweet, soothing liquid.

The moment was peaceful, both having shared a small part of themselves and found comfort in the presence of the other. The calm might've stayed forever if Lafayette hadn't caught a glimpse of the setting sun through the window.

"Oh dear, is it really this late already?" He questioned, sitting up straight before frowning a little and looking to Thomas, "I am sorry, mon ami, I meant to take you back to town but it looks like you will have to stay the night."

"Really, it's alright," Thomas replied with a small smile and a shake of his head, "I don't mind spending the night. You have quite a nice place, actually."

He watched as Lafayette nodded with a little smile of his own, then standing and taking the dishes to place them in the kitchen sink, "I'll admit, I do take pride in my little home. If you like it too, I won't mind giving you my bed." The wood-elf offered a playful wink to punctuate his sentence with.

Though the sorcerer's heart fluttered at the little action, he still stopped him as he began to pull out spare blankets, "Really, Lafayette, I can't take your own bed away from you. The floor by the fire will be just fine for me."

"Non, mon ami, I must insist. Take the bed, you need a good rest after today-"

"- Which is why I can't let my hero sleep on the floor in their own home, I was raised better than that."

With only one bed and the elven pair insisting that the other have it, there was only one outcome where they'd both be happy.

"I guess that leaves us with no other choice then; we will share the bed!" The ranger announces with an innocent smile and a clap of his hands, startling the sorcerer.

"What?"

"It will be like a sleepover! I have many fond memories of having friends overnight." Lafayette adds with a little laugh as he takes the high-elf by the hand.

"I suppose..." Thomas murmured, unable to bring himself to deny such a sweet offer when Lafayette seemed so excited by it.

The ranger was able to scale the ladder with just a few leaping steps, no doubt a perk of spending all your time in the forested Feywilds. The sorcerer, on the other hand, was much more cautious with his steps as he climbed up the home-made structure.

The loft was just tall enough for the elven pair to be able to stand up in, and many of the decorative themes in the rest of the house carried into the cozy space. Still, Thomas couldn't help but blink at the sheer volume of warm quilts and soft blankets strewn over and around the mattress that was set into the floor.

"You have... Quite the collection. Is this a hobby of yours?" He asked as he slipped off his shows and unclipped his cloak from around his neck.

Lafayette chuckled a little in response as he shook his head, "Non, they are gifts. Back in town, the resident weaver is a very sweet tabaxi, you might have met her. I help her find flowers for dyes, and she often gives me some of the things she makes in thanks."

"Ah, yes, I did meet her," The high-elf replies as he sets his boots in a little corner and begins to fold his cloak, "She gave me clues on where to find the Feywilds in exchange for my story. She's also the one I bought this cloak from."

"That certainly sounds like her..." The wood-elf replied with a nod as he begins to settle into bed, "I'll have to thank her soon. Now, it is time for bed mon ami, come." He added with a smile, lifting part of the layered quilts and patting the space next to him.

Thomas couldn't help but smile at the sweet little action, allowing himself to get comfortable without taking up too much of Lafayette's space, "Thank you for everything today, Lafayette, goodnight."

"It was my pleasure, mon ami... Bonne nuit."

* * *

It wasn't long after dawn when Thomas next opened his eyes, making an "Mmnff," sound under his breath. He rolled over in bed, blinking when he came face to face with a butterfly resting on his pillow. Curious, he lifted his head and reached for the little creature, only for it to flutter away and rest on Lafayette's cheek.

The wood-elf was actually covered in many butterflies, each glittering with their own exotic patterns and colours. It made the high-elf smile to see such a gorgeous man in the company of beautiful little creatures. Somewhere in his sleepy mind, Thomas remembered Fey liking to give cute little gifts like to the ones they favour.

One of the butterflies came gliding over from where it was fluttering between Lafayette's curls and landed on the high-elf's shoulder. It was lavender with silvery speckles that reminded him of the first stars that appeared just after sunset. It made him smile, "How sweet..."

Thomas shifted a little bit, lifting an arm and carefully wrapping it around the wood-elf's waist. The butterflies moved to allow for the action, and in turn, Lafayette snuggled closer and pressed his nose into the high-elf's chest.

His heart fluttered at the sleepy affection as more butterflies landed across his shoulders and in his curls. Thomas began to close his eyes, letting out a quiet hum as he settled back into sleep.

His magic had always pulled him, taking him places and presenting him with situations where he could test his abilities. He was always moving, never being able to stay in one place for long before the pull became too much to ignore and he was made to follow it again. Now it was calm, following along with his heart, and his heart told him to stay right where he was.

**Author's Note:**

> I also have a Tumblr over at @.crescent-quill-writings! I post all my fics over there as well as reblogging some art, other fics, gifs, and things I enjoy in the Hamilton fandom!


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